


The Little Things

by orphan_account



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Ensemble Cast, F/M, M/M, The Haus, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3797080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are little pieces of everything that make up life. There are early mornings with sleepy eyes and there are angry afternoons with clenched fists.<br/>These are the best things, because no matter what happens, you get to share them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Smile

Smile

Eric’s not really sure what to feel. He finally has a break, a day off. There’s finally has a three day weekend where there isn’t a game or a practice or even a Haus Party. He finally has the time to drive.

A drive forty five minutes away isn’t supposed to feel like a world away, but it does. Eric almost wonders if it would be easier if there was more space. In the back of his mind, he’s glad he doesn’t have to know the difference.  

Eric takes deep breaths on the highway and turns his iPod up as high as it can go. Excitement pulls at the edges of his words as he sings along. There’s a sign on the edge of the Eric’s vison. _Welcome to Providence!_

Eric can’t help but grin. He’s almost there, to a little piece of home. To where he doesn’t have to worry about grades or the stats for their next game unless he wants to. There’s an apartment downtown, where Jack hums while he cooks and tells Eric stories about Montreal. About how his cousin Marie lived down the street from him and they got into as much trouble as they could manage. About how he's found a good place to take pictures in Providence and how Lardo's been trying to convince him to sell them to nature journals, because Jack knows how to get up to ducks and squirrels without scaring them away. Jack talks and talks and Eric feels at home.

Eric parks his car and grabs his duffle. His locks click and he walks up the stairs to unlock the door, and Jack jumps before he smiles like he’s a little bit in love. Eric smiles back, because he has all of forty seven hours before he has to get back to Samwell.

He wants to make the most of them.


	2. Love

Love

Bitty sits with sweaty palms for graduation, because even though this isn’t his last night of college, it is Jack’s. The day after tomorrow, Jack will be moving out of the Haus and he’ll be back to Montreal for a month, before apartment hunting in Providence.

He’s going to be gone, and Eric isn’t sure how to handle that. He’s not sure how to approach the feelings carefully tucked under layers of reminders that Jack is not interested and how nice it is to be friends with him.That will have to be enough because if he lets himself wish for more in the daylight, with his thoughts out in the open, he might burst.

He only wishes for more in the dead of night, after he’s been leaning against Jack’s door for an hour talking and chirping. After Jack brings a coffee to the Haus for him because he remembers that Eric has an essay due in the morning. After there’s been a Mario Kart tournament and they’re breathless laughing because somehow Shitty has convinced Lardo to play in his place and she’s kicking ass. After they win a game and Jack stays in the kitchen to help with dishes because he doesn’t like the parties anyways and he’d rather spend time with Eric.

Eric only admits that he’s more than a little in love in the dead of night.

He hears Jack’s name get called, and the entire hockey team screams at the top of their lungs even though you’re not supposed to cheer. Jack blushes down his neck and laughs as he walks off stage.

Jack gets swarmed by classmates after graduation, so Eric holds his tongue and waits. He takes the time that he can’t reach Jack to gather his courage, because he’s not sure he can handle the thought that Jack might stop talking to him after he lets words roll of his tongue.

He waits until they get back to the Haus, and Jack manages to get away from Ransom and Holster.They've been following Jack and Shitty chanting praises since the hockey team managed to swarm their boys again.

Eric leans against Jack’s doorframe. He told Jack that he’d like a word and Jack had asked him to wait there until he was out of his robes.

Jack opens the door and Eric’s covers his mouth to stifle a laugh because Jack's hair looks like a bird's nest and he has some kind of glittery frog sticker on his forehead that has to have come from Nursey. Eric holds up a hand and motions for Jack to bend down enough for Eric to fix his hair. He decides to move the frog sticker from Jack's forehead to the breast pocket of Jack's dress shirt.

“Thanks. What did you need Bittle?” Jack asks as Eric looks up at him and finds that Jack’s eyes are just a little melancholy. Like he's going to miss little moments like these that they've never talked about.

“I just wanted to say I’m really going to miss you.” Eric says. “It’s not going to be the same without you.” Eric takes a breath because for once he’s starting to lose his words. “Truth be told, I’m going to miss you waking me up at four am too, because I liked checking practice. I’m gonna miss cooking with you and practicing with you and watching history documentaries with you and…” Eric trails off. “I’m just really, really going to miss you.”

His face flushes red and he gathers his courage before standing on his tiptoes to press a brief kiss on Jack’s lips. He steps back quickly and he turns the knob into his room before Jack says something that stops him as quickly as a gallon of ice water dumped on his head.

“I think I love you.” Jack blurts. “I like cooking with you, even though you’re better than me. I like the way your face looks when it’s covered in flour and sugar and you have a smudge of cocoa powder behind your ear. I like it when you dance before games because you have enough energy for your music and for snapshots all within a couple of hours. I like watching documentaries with you because every once and a while you’ll fall asleep and your nose will crinkle up so you look like some kind of rabbit.  I like taking pictures of you, because you a have a light that I've never seen before, and I don't think I want to where it’s dark." Jack takes a couple of breaths and he looks like he might start shaking. " I think I might love you Bitty.”

Eric takes a breath and braces a hand against the side of his door because he feels just a little light headed and he’s almost sure he’s dreaming. “I think I love you too.”

They smile quietly at each other for a moment before Eric opens his for and gestures for Jack to follow him. To talk, to kiss, to drink in each other before they won't be able to any more.

They can be a little late to the party.


	3. Anger

Anger

Jack is no stranger to anger. He knows what it's like to be at your lowest point and be shoved down by somebody you once thought a friend, a partner, and love. He knows the hot fury that bubbles under your skin and makes your stomach hurt.

It's never been as bad as this. As bad as being told if he continued to hang out with his gay friend _his boyfriend, love, his soul_ that he would not be welcome on the Stars. To be told that he had to choose between his personal and professional lives.

It's really no choice at all. No choice between a team and having Bitty sitting in the stands cheering him on. No choice between lonely nights at home after loses or Eric in just his Samwell sweat pants with a smile and a _You'll beat them next time, Kay babe?_

Jack thinks it's almost laughable how there are people that think he has to consider the choice between Eric and the Stars. That he would choose a couple extra zeroes over his friend. His love. The man with a ring hidden in his sock drawer that Jack's pretending to not have found.

Jack stands up from negotiations and uses all of his willpower to not cause a scene. He should be nervous about saying no, but the shaky hum in his stomach is gone for the time being. "Thank you for the offer." He says tightly, several slow breaths between his next few words. "But I would rather have a group of pythons as my team instead of you."

Jack walks out and he doesn't panic until he's home and his fury is starting to dull.

 


	4. Trapped

Trapped

Jack has always looked at mental health like it's a disease, like cancer. Ever since he was twelve years old and sitting in the office with the office ladies he had come to know well in first three months middle school, Jack had always thought that anxiety would be his end. Anxiety would kill him, somehow, someway, he would die.

He doesn't tell his Mother how he feels. She's busy and she and Papa have been trying for a baby. She doesn't need to worry about her son's broken brain. She's thinking about her next photoshoot and the next charity dinner she has to plan. Alicia has to worry about the voice acting contract her agent brought up last time he came over for coffee.  She doesn't need to worry about how Jack is resisting the urge to claw a hole into his chest so he can finally breathe.

He just needs to get on the ice. Papa is right, he can handle anything on the ice. On the ice, the trapped feeling starts to go away.

 

Jack gets older and the trapped feeling stuck inside his chest like a tumor feels worse. It burns, and Jack can't sleep or breathe on any of the nights his dad has a game. He's scared, because in the morning, on his way to school, reporters will stop him and question him about his father's game.

 They won't care about Jack's homework or his essay for language arts or about the fact that he almost vomits anytime anyone puts a microphone in his general area. They won't care about Jack.

He's a sophomore in high school and Jack should really be trying to sleep but he can't. He can't because there's an elephant sitting on him, a large weight stuck on his chest.

He gets out of bed and Jack picks up his skates and goes to the backyard because it’s cold enough that the pond is frozen over with seven inches of ice. Jack skates and it doesn't get any better. He’s terrified, because nothing is getting better. Instead of anything getting better, Jack falls. He tumbles to the ground and something in his wrist snaps. He still can’t breathe. Jack picks himself up and once on the grass, he uses one hand to unlace his skates. He walks back to the house in his socks. His mom is sitting up with the TV on quietly in the corner. She has a script in her lap and an ink pen in her teeth. “Jack?” She asks, her voice honeyed with concern. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare or something?”

Jack only now starts to realize that there’s pain along with his panic. “I couldn’t sleep.” He says. He looks down at his wrist to see the bone that’s sticking up against his skin. “I went out to skate, I do it sometimes. Papa does too.” He still can’t breathe. “I fell. I think my wrist is broken.” Alicia is already beside him and gently turns his wrist. “Sweetheart.” She says softly. “I’m going to grab your shoes and then we’re going to take you to the hospital, alright?”

“Maman.” Jack breathes. “I think I’m having a panic attack.”

“Jack.” She soothes, the smile on her face fragile. “We’re going to take a drive, and everything will be alright.

 

Jack is just shy of eighteen the withdraw from taking him off of his one medication and moving him to one less habit forming is making him shake. He’s just shy of vomiting and every time he moves he feels like he’s going to fall over. His mother is visiting. She’s brought a folder of photos. She’d gotten pictures of the sunrise. They’re fuzzy, but they’re a breath of fresh air. There’s a picture of the dog he took a month ago, playing with the camera. There’s a picture of the ice and there’s even a picture from when Jack was dating Kenny all of three weeks ago. “I’m sorry.” Jack says.

Alicia jolts up from the pictures on the table and looks like her heart’s broken. “Jack, sweetheart.” You don’t have to apologize.”

"Yes I do." Jack stammers out. "I'm sorry because you have to deal with me instead of going and doing other things. I know people are starting to hack on Papa now that he's retired and you wanted more kids and instead you got one broken child and I'm sorry Maman. I'm sorry because I'm not going to be the baby that you wanted. I'm not going to be an actor and I'm not going to be able to play hockey right now and I'm just sorry. I'm sorry I failed you."

"Jack Laurent Zimmermann." Alicia says, her voice sad but firm. "You didn't fail me. You're not broken. You might be a little rough around the edges right now, but that's because you're scared." She sets a hand on her son's cheek. "I didn't ever want you to be a star hockey player or an actor like me. All I ever wanted, was for my baby to be happy and healthy. Do you understand me?"

"Maman." Jack says. "I'm not sure I’ll ever be healthy."

Alicia smiles and stands for a brief moment so she can put a kiss on her son's forehead. "We're going to try like hell anyways."

 

 


	5. Sunrise

Sunrise

Eric knows that he should still be sleeping. There's no ice time. There's no bakery open today so he doesn't need to start any ovens full of bread or pie or the specialty cookies the woman down the street buys once a week. Eric just likes waking with the sun sometimes. Today is one of those days.

Jack walks up behind Eric and stands beside him with two cups of coffee. One cup is filled with plain black coffee. The other is sweetened with cake batter creamer and milk. Eric takes his sugar filled sludge in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. "Mornin' Dear." He says as Jack wraps an arm around his waist, a hand in his pocket.

"Morning, Amour." Jack hums. They stand there in the quiet morning until the sun is up and it feels like they would be able to fly if they only tried.

"You wanna go back to bed for a little bit?" Eric asks with a yawn.

"Only if you come with me."


	6. Grocery

Grocery

Eric huffs as he set down his basket at the checkout. “Evenin’ Jack.”

The counter boy smiles as he starts to ring up Eric’s weekly butter purchase. “I don’t think three am counts as evening anymore, Bitty.”

Eric quirks a grin as he leans on the counter. “It’s evenin’ until I say it isn’t anymore.”

Jack pauses in the middle of bagging the milk. “How long have you been awake?” He asks, because he knows the answer is more than twenty-four hours. Eric words get sweeter and his accent gets thinker when he’s sleep deprived. Not that Jack made a note of it. Okay, he might have made a note of it. It’s cute.

Eric pauses. “What day is it? It’s Sunday, right?”

Jack exhales instead of laughing. “It’s early Tuesday morning.”

Eric stops pulling his credit card out of his wallet. “Oh.” He says, like that explains everything. “I was filming. And editing. And writing.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I should probably call somebody to come get me.”

Jack looks at the clock. “My shift ends in twenty minutes. I could drive you, if you want.”

Eric blinks rapidly. “Could I take you on a date in exchange?”

Jack flushes. “I think I’d like that.”


	7. Family

Family

Eric briefly considers not taking Jack’s surname.

It’s something that comes up in the wedding preparations. Something that reporters try and weasel out of him when he’s out for an emergency butter run. (His little bakery is becoming known around athlete circles and he has a catering order for _three hundred_ apple pie cupcakes. Butter is essential.)

He hadn’t really considered anything about anyone’s name. He was a little bit more focused on the actual wedding instead of the words on the license. It might be a little bit important, he thinks as he pipes frosting onto the little cakes. The whole name thing is a smidge important.

Eric doesn’t like hyphenating. He’s perfectly cool if other people want to do it, but it’s not for him. It’s too long, and one of the names usually gets left off anyways. They could keep their given names, but the unity in having one name shared is a romantic thought that Eric’s held onto since childhood. He likes the idea of being _Mr. and Mr. Zimmermann_ , but that might just be because he’s a sap. Then, Eric remembers early morning conversations bathed in golden light about the future.

Conversations about a family and two dogs so they have each other for company in the short time they’d be alone. Conversations about teaching their kids how to skate and humming in the kitchen making family dinner and macaroni school projects.

Eric would like his family to share a name.

He mentions it to Jack at home that evening, and Jack goes quiet. For a moment, Eric thinks he might have overloaded him with reasons about why he thinks it’s a good idea until he turns around. Jack’s smiling at him like he’s the sun and the world would be missing something amazing without him.

“As long as you’ll still be Bitty, then I’d be honored, Eric.”


	8. Mornin'

It’s warm and safe here, at home. Home, were Bitty lays in bed half asleep. It’s quiet, a rarity with his family. An arm wraps around the small of his back and he’s so glad that Jack isn’t on the road. He smiles.

“Mornin’” He mumbles sleepily. 

Jack laughs, and Eric doesn’t doubt that he’s been awake for ages, because this boy doesn’t know how to sleep in. He must have climbed back in bed. “Good morning Bits.”

Eric rolls over and curls into Jack’s chest. “What time is it?” He asks, because it’s Sunday and they don’t have to get up until they’re pulled out of bed.

“It’s almost eight.” Jack informs, rubbing small circles on his back through Eric’s shirt.

 

Bitty surges up. “Excuse me?” He says, pulling the covers off to get out of bed. “It’s eight am and she’s not up yet? Is she dying? Is the world ending?”

“Eric,” Jack says in an attempt to calm him down, “we’ve been up since five. It’s okay.”

Bitty relaxes and sinks back against the pillows of their bed. “Okay. It’s okay.”

Jack smiles. “You okay there, Super Dad?”

Eric leans into Jack. “We have a schedule. I was concerned when I wasn’t pulled out of bed.”

“It’s okay. Papa’s on the job.”

Eric laughs, mostly because Jack tries puff out his chest like a super hero and it’s ridiculous. “Alright then Jack.” He says, actually getting out of bed. “Let’s go see our baby.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The baby's name is Caroline. Everyone calls her "Liney." It felt important.  
> 


	9. Sure

People always ask Jack if _he's sure_. He doesn't know when it started bothering him.

Jack's six and he's the best player on his little league hockey team. Everyone wants to know if he's sure.

Is he sure he wants to make that pass? Is he sure he wants to stay on this team instead of some team for prodigies or something stupid? Are you sure using yellow tape on your stick isn't going to make you stand out too much?

All of the questions make his skin crawl. His chest feels like its slowly closing in and he has to fight to not be sick. Something's wrong, that he's sure of.

He gags and swallows back bile on the ice when some reporter sneaks in and starts yelling questions across the ice. They have to call his mom.

 

 

Jack knows its not any better as he grow up. He resolves some stressors and then more grow. Some get better and some get worse.

He knows that he loves hockey, that he's sure of.

So he plays. He starts in The Q and he meets Kent Parson. Kent Parson, with a perfect smile and messy hair that's anything but perfect. Kenny, who kisses like air and calls him Zimms, candy sweet.

They're just shy of twenty and there's some party that Kenny wants to go to. He wants to go, but he also wants sex so his bright idea is to bring Jack with him.

Some days, Jack thinks he loves Kent, and then he pulls shit like this. Jack’s said he's done and Kent thinks if he pushes him just a little farther everything will be great.  But Jack also doesn't know how to say no to Kent, with his honey flavored words and convincing eyes.

"All right." He says, quietly as he gets up out of the chair.

"Really?" Kent asks. "You sure?"

Something about the word turns Jack's stomach sour, but he doesn't say anything. What should he say? _No, I'm not sure. No, I'm not coming with you to your party. I'm sure I want to kiss you just not right now._

"Yeah, I'm sure." He says, because it's easier. He wonders if he can take extra meds before he leaves the house. He's talking the max, but he's going to be so high strung at this party, he's sure a couple more wouldn't hurt.

 

 

He was sure it would be fine. It should have been. It should have.

But it wasn't.

Instead, Jack is in the hospital and the room they're keeping him is completely danger proof so he can't hurt himself. It was an accident, but with his spiral of anxiety and depression they're being careful.

They’re not sure he wouldn’t try to kill himself again, so he isn’t allowed shoe laces or drawstring pants.

There's a shitty tv in the wall, and from there Jack watches as Kent goes first pick in the draft.

He didn't mean to, he didn't. He promises his parents that this is never what he wanted. He never wanted to hurt himself or anyone around him.

His dad doesn't quiet understand, but his mom gets it.

Later, he'll learn that anxiety and depression are genetic. He and his mom are also genetically predisposed to addiction.  She gets it. There’s a reason they don’t keep alcohol in their house.

There's a couple of weeks where Jack doesn't know what to do. He has all this new information. Nobody in the NHL wants him now. He has to wait at least until the end of this season to find a team.

He's not sure he wants to go straight to a team. 

He's been looking for a school and there's this little college in Massachusetts. They've got a good history program and Jack would be able to play hockey to keep himself in shape for when he wants to start in the NHL and he'd have space.

(The fact that Samwell is a queer friendly college sits tucked in the back of his mind, along with the voicemail of Parse breaking up with him while he was in rehab and the memory of candy sweet kisses on his lips.)

He’s not sure, but he’s close.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heavily edited this chapter because it was really poorly written. i was probably asleep. it's only a little better


	10. Panic

Somebody needs to remind him that he’s not going to die because Jack can’t remember that through all of this. He just can’t and his entire body hurts and he doesn’t know what to do. What do you do when your lungs are closing off and you’re shaking and you can’t remember how to breathe through all of these tears?

Somebody needs to come in here because Jack can’t get anything out loud enough to ask for help.

Through some miracle somebody walks in and Jack can’t even see. He can’t move enough to lift his head up out of his arms because everything is so heavy. Why is it heavy? This is his body, it shouldn’t be so heavy.

A careful hand settles on his back and somebody (Ransom?) yells for Shitty because Shitty knows what to do. Jack flinches because _you’re touching me this is input I didn’t ask for you’re loud you’re trying but stop!!_

Ransom removes his hand and starts talking slowly about who knows what. Something slow and routine. Jack thinks it might be homework. It doesn't calm him down not entirely, but it helps until Shitty gets there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I actually wrote ten of these little things. Nice.  
> 


End file.
